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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960989">Winter Wonder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat'>pipisafoat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Harry Granger [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Celtic Mythology &amp; Folklore, Christian Character, Christianity, Christmas, Cultural Differences, Fictional Religion &amp; Theology, Gen, Prophecy, Religion, Yule</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:23:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the winter holidays from Hogwarts, and Harry, Hermione, and even Draco have a fun-filled time planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Harry Granger [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/394513</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Winter Wonder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A quick note before we get into this. There is significant religious content in this story, both Christian and … Wiccan-adjacent. Neither of these religions are mine; the latter is invented. I have tried to treat both with equal respect and mean no disrespect to anyone who recognizes their own religious traditions in this, especially where I have altered the religion to better suit my story. When in doubt, remember that this is fiction.</p><p>I do not personally celebrate Christmas and have not for about a decade. I haven’t lived in Britain since I was 3 years old, either. Please forgive me any cultural errors that exist despite my research.</p><p>See end notes for commentary on warnings.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Governor Malfoy!” Emily smiles at the familiar face approaching the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ from the opposite direction. “How wonderful to see you again.”</p><p>The blond man takes her hand when he reaches the brick column and bends gracefully over it. “You as well, Mrs Burke-Granger. Mr Granger. Allow me to introduce my wife, Madam Narcissa Black Malfoy.”</p><p>“A pleasure to meet you both. Our son Draco has written us about your children. I’m sure you’re proud of how well they’re doing in school,” the equally blonde woman says softly.</p><p>“We are very proud of them both, Madam Malfoy,” Sam replies.</p><p>“I presume you are here to pick up your children from the train?” Governor Malfoy asks. When the Grangers both nod, he exchanges a glance with his wife. “Shall we accompany you to the other side of the barrier?”</p><p>Emily beams. “Yes, please. That would be wonderful, Governor Malfoy.”</p><p>“Lucius, please, Mrs Burke-Granger,” he replies.</p><p>“Then Emily and Sam for us, Lucius.”</p><p>Mrs Malfoy smiles as she takes Emily’s elbow, leaving Lucius to escort Sam. “And you must call me Narcissa, dear. I must admit, I have been looking forward to meeting your children in person, your son especially.” Emily starts to bristle, but Narcissa pats her arm and continues. “Draco tells me that he’s friends with both of them but closer to young Harry. He does tend to befriend boys more readily than girls.”</p><p>Emily relaxes as they pass through the barrier after the men and onto the magical platform. It looks the same as it did in September when the train left: lined with parents, magical vendors, and even some booths selling items without a human present. “I understand. Most children befriend others of their gender, but Hermione’s best friend, other than Harry of course, is a boy named Anthony Goldstein.”</p><p>“Goldstein?” Narcissa asks with a small frown. “Lucius, Anthony Goldstein. Would that be Travis Goldstein’s child?”</p><p>“Heavens, no,” Lucius replies with a laugh, turning to face the ladies. “Old Travis has no children, or none he acknowledges. This Anthony, is he another first year?”</p><p>“Yes, a Ravenclaw,” Sam answers, coming back to Emily’s side and placing his arm around her shoulders.</p><p>Lucius’s eyes go distant and his lips move silently, then he nods sharply and turns his focus to Narcissa. “Travis has a much younger brother, Thomas. I believe Thomas Goldstein has children the right age, with a halfblood wife.” He turns to Emily and Sam with a smile. “Travis Goldstein is one of my business contacts, but I’m afraid I don’t know Thomas Goldstein or his children. They are a long-standing family, very old blood like mine and yours, very pure like mine and like your ancestors, not extremely wealthy but hardly poor. They have a good reputation within the community, no criminal history in the family, very intelligent people. Anthony, you said? I believe he would be a good friend for your children to have when they move into society as adults.”</p><p>“Thank you for the information,” Emily says, surprised at the thorough response to a side comment about how children form friendships. It is good to know that the boy’s family is well thought of in case he invites her daughter and son for a visit.</p><p>“Emily, Sam, we’d like to invite your family to Malfoy Manor for dinner tonight,” Narcissa says suddenly. “Perhaps seeing our home and getting to know Draco as well as the two of us in a more relaxed setting will put you at ease with the idea of Harry and Hermione visiting.”</p><p>They’re saved from an immediate answer as a train whistle blows loudly. All four adults - and most of the other parents on the platform - turn to look at the shiny scarlet engine approaching the platform. The train windows are mostly down, and as the train slows, more and more heads pop out of windows. The students wave wildly, shouting over each other until no words can be made out, just the air of excitement. Whatever traditions a student might follow, everyone was coming home to see family or friends, and most of them would have a holiday with presents as well.</p><p>“There’s Harry,” Sam says into Emily’s ear, having to be that close to be heard. She follows his pointing finger and grins as the shock of black hair comes into view. Apparently three and a half months at a magical school in a castle hasn’t changed how untidy their son’s hair is. She waves back at him, surprised when he grins and disappears from the window. Hermione’s head appears next, though, and her surprise vanishes. Of course he’d let his sister have a turn instead of holding it all to himself. She waves just as happily at the daughter who looks so much like her mother.</p><p>“Draco mentioned that they were riding together,” Lucius says loudly but somehow without shouting or invading Emily’s space. “We arranged to meet him right here. I imagine your children will come along with him.”</p><p>“That will definitely be easier,” Sam replies, gesturing to the mass of people gathering at the edge of the platform right beside the train. Emily grimaces. She certainly doesn’t want to fight her way through that crowd.</p><p>The four adults wait together, all watching the crowd and scanning for their children. Sam suddenly taps Lucius on the arm and points. "If your son looks just like you, I think I found them," he announces.</p><p>"He does," Lucius confirms with pride evident in his voice. "I believe you are correct, Sam. I know of no other threesome of students that young that includes a black girl and a boy with hair this color."</p><p>It's a bit of a relief to Emily that her famous son isn't the one that makes identifying the friends so easy. She worried when they went to school that kids would try to befriend him just for how his parents died, but she feels secure with the Malfoys. It's possible his fame started the relationship, but it's real now regardless.</p><p>"Mum! Dad!" Her kids shout as soon as they clear the crowd, releasing each other's hands - Harry also releases Draco's hand, which Emily wonders about until she realizes it was probably the only way to get through the crowd without being separated. She and Sam rush to meet their children, sweeping them up into one big family hug.</p><p>"Father, Mother," the blond boy says behind them, and Emily twists to see the Malfoys exchange a more reserved greeting. Lucius's hand on his son's shoulder, Narcissa’s soft combing of the boy’s hair, and Draco’s beaming smile all speak to genuine affection, though.</p><p>“It is good to see you again, my son,” Lucius tells the boy, and the grin grows.</p><p>“I understand that you already know Mr and Mrs Granger, but may I introduce you to Harry Potter-Burke-Granger and Hermione Burke-Granger? Harry, Hermione, these are my parents, Governor Lucius Malfoy and Madam Narcissa Black Malfoy.”</p><p>Emily releases her children as they turn to the other family. “A pleasure, Governor and Madam Malfoy,” Hermione replies with a small curtsy that Emily knows she didn’t learn at home. Harry joins her with a short bow that he must also have learned at school.</p><p>“Gratifying to meet you finally, Young Master Potter-Burke-Granger and Young Mistress Burke-Granger,” Lucius replies, returning the bow as his wife also curtsies. “We have heard much of you from our son. Please, call us Lucius and Narcissa as your parents do.”</p><p>“And please call us Harry and Hermione,” her son offers before he turns to her and Sam. “Mum, Dad, I’d like to introduce you to Young Master Draco Malfoy. Draco, our parents, Drs Granger.”</p><p>“Sam and Emily, please,” her husband tells the boy, extending a hand and shaking Draco’s firmly.</p><p>“Draco,” the boy returns. “I am most pleased to meet you, Sam and Emily. I find a very strong resemblance between yourself and your daughter, Emily. It seems she is destined to grow up into a lovely woman.”</p><p>Emily feels heat rise to her cheeks despite herself because of the eleven year old’s compliment. She’s just not used to positive remarks on her looks from white people, generally speaking, though she’s not gotten many negative comments either. “Thank you, Draco,” she finally manages, proud when she doesn’t stutter. “You and your father favor each other, as well. I’m sure you’ll grow up to be just as strong as he.”</p><p>Draco smiles in a way that makes Emily certain he’s resisting a full grin. “I appreciate the comparison.”</p><p>“Where are your trunks?” Lucius asks, and it’s Hermione who replies.</p><p>“Daniel shrunk them for us, so Harry has all three in his pocket. Could you unshrink ours, sir, so we can get into them at home?”</p><p>The blond man nods down at her. “Certainly, Hermione, and please call me Lucius instead of sir. I have not been knighted, and you are not at school. However, I have a proposal for your family.” He turns to be sure everyone is paying attention before continuing. “We would like to invite the four of you to join us at Malfoy Manor for a meal and tour. We would be glad to bring you to your home after and unshrink your trunks there so you don’t have to carry them through the station. Should you choose not to join us at Malfoy Manor, we could unshrink the trunks at your automobile.”</p><p>Emily turns to her children, grateful that the Malfoys are all waiting quietly instead of trying to pressure them into a choice. Harry looks overwhelmingly excited at the prospect of seeing his friend’s house - manor home, apparently - and Hermione seems interested if not overcome. She looks at her husband, who shrugs and nods. Finally, she turns back to the Malfoys. “Thank you, Lucius, for such a generous invitation. We would love to visit your home. How would we get there, and what about our car?”</p><p>Narcissa frowns for a moment, then brightens. “Lucius, why don’t you and Sam fetch it? I can floo Emily and the children to the receiving room, and you two can apparate in with the … car.”</p><p>She’s heard of and seen apparation because of Remus, but he’s never mentioned doing it with a car. Floo is a new word, though. Lucius agrees, however, and he and Sam head to the parking lot as Narcissa herds Emily and all three kids over to a large fireplace.</p><p>“I’ll go first, Mother,” Draco says. “It’s quite simple. You toss a handful of floo powder into the fire. When it’s green, you step in and say the destination, which is Malfoy Manor Receiving Room. As soon as you start to spin, say the password.” He steps to each her children, whispering in their ears, then comes to her. “Serenade,” he whispers when she bends down enough to hear him.</p><p>“Draco, take Emily with you,” Narcissa instructs. “I’m not certain if a squib has enough magic to floo alone.”</p><p>The boy nods firmly. “Emily, you won’t have to speak after all. Please keep a firm grip on my shoulder in the fire, though.”</p><p>She knows it’s magic. She knows Narcissa wouldn’t harm her, especially with Draco in the fire with her. She’s still afraid.</p><p>“We’ve seen Remus floo before, Mum,” Harry says when her hesitation becomes obvious. “He was fine.”</p><p>“Draco has done this many times, Emily. I assure you, you will be fine. Try not to inhale during the trip - it is less than ten seconds, so you shouldn’t have trouble with that. At worst, you’ll have soot on your clothing, and Dobby is quite good at cleaning that up.”</p><p>Right. “Ready when you are, Draco.” She joins him directly in front of the fireplace and sets a hand on his shoulder, grateful when he doesn’t react outwardly to what is probably a too-firm grasp.</p><p>They step into the fireplace together and turn to face out. Draco gives her a smile that is probably supposed to reassure her but instead reminds her how young he is to be trusted with her life. She takes a deep breath and nods at him to go ahead, fighting to keep the fear off her face. Draco tosses a bit of shimmering green powder onto the floor of the fireplace and announces, “Malfoy Manor Receiving Room!” in a clear but not overly loud voice that Emily decides is the result of years of practice. They start to spin, and she somehow doesn’t shout in fear, though she does latch onto the boy with her other hand as well. “Serenade!” Draco says, and a moment later the spinning stops so abruptly that she tumbles out of the fireplace and lands hard on her left side, the blond boy in her hands following her down.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Emily!” Draco says, lurching to his feet and holding out a hand to her. “I didn’t mean to knock you down!”</p><p>She holds up a hand and squeezes her eyes tightly shut to keep the room from spinning. After a moment, the worst of the nausea passes, and she opens her eyes to find worried grey eyes looking at her from where Draco is crouched beside her head. “I’m okay,” she forces out.</p><p>“Is your stomach upset?” he asks, and when she nods (as slowly as possible, because the room starts spinning again when she does), he stands. “Dobby!”</p><p>It’s magic. She’s in a magical home. Still, it’s a bit too much to see a green thing with huge eyes and long, pointed ears, so she shuts her eyes again and rolls onto her back.</p><p>“Fetch our guest a stomach calming potion. She’s a squib.”</p><p>“Yes, Young Master,” a squeaky voice replies before a pop sounds. A second later, she hears a whoosh and then a thud.</p><p>“That was weird!” her son exclaims from somewhere beside her and definitely also on the floor. She opens one eye and turns her head to see him sprawled face-down with his head level with her hip. “Hi, Mum. You okay?”</p><p>Another pop, and the green creature is back. “Young Master, she is needing to be sitting up to take the potion.”</p><p>“She’ll be fine,” Draco tells Harry, plucking a small bottle from the creature’s hand. “Dobby, help her sit.”</p><p>The creature snaps its fingers, and Emily shouts as she feels some kind of invisible force moving her body. Magic may be interesting and beneficial, but sometimes it’s apparently downright invasive.</p><p>“Relax into it and let him help you,” Draco instructs as another whoosh-thump happens. Hermione stares from her spot on top of Harry at their mother.</p><p>“Okay, I’m sitting, I can do it on my own!” Emily shouts at the creature. “Stop doing that!”</p><p>Thankfully, the magic leaves quickly at her command. Draco hands her the glass bottle the creature brought, and she uncorks it. “Drink the whole thing. One gulp is best.”</p><p>She trusts them. She trusts him. She trusts her kids to tell her if she shouldn’t do something, and they’re both nodding along with Draco. Trust. Right. She brings the small bottle to her lips and knocks it back like she’s in university again doing shots on the weekend.</p><p>“Better?” Harry asks immediately.</p><p>“Give it a minute to work,” she replies, sticking the cork back in the top of the bottle and returning it to Draco, who hands it to the creature and dismisses the thing with a wave of his hand.</p><p>“I thought it worked instantly,” Hermione says with a questioning look at Draco.</p><p>The blond nods. “It interacts with magic. The three of us have stronger than average magic, I would guess, while your mother has very little magic. It will work for her, just slower and perhaps not as effectively as for us.”</p><p>“I’m getting there,” Emily puts in. A whoosh sounds without the subsequent thump her children made falling out of the fireplace, and she looks up to see Narcissa Malfoy.</p><p>“Draco, surely you could have found seats for our guests?” she asks in a censuring tone.</p><p>“I’m not ready to move,” Emily responds quickly, drawing the blond woman’s attention to her. “Still nauseous from the trip.”</p><p>Harry scrambles to his feet. “Madam Malfoy, Draco has given her a potion already. We’re just waiting a few minutes for it to take full effect.”</p><p>The woman smiles down at him before turning the same smile onto her own son. “Well done, Draco. I presumed incorrectly. I’ll have some tea brought to the parlor; please show everyone to a seat when they’re ready.”</p><p>“Yes, Mother,” Draco replies promptly.</p><p>“And do have Dobby clean the soot from your clothing.”</p><p>Draco looks down at himself and blushes fiercely. “Yes, Mother.” Emily can see maybe two spots with the tiniest bit of soot on them; her own children have easily ten times the soot on their clothes. Narcissa was somehow impeccable after her trip through the fire, though.</p><p>“Sorry I got you dirty,” she says to the blond boy as his mother sweeps regally from the room, certain he’s only sooty because she accidentally brought him down with her as she fell from the fireplace.</p><p>“There is no need for an apology, Emily,” he responds in a clearly rehearsed manner. “Dobby!”</p><p>With a pop, the small green creature is back. “Yes, Young Master?”</p><p>“Clean the soot from all of our clothing. When we leave this room, clean it as well.”</p><p>“Yes, Young Master. Should Dobby also clean the soot from Young Master Potter and Young Mistress Burke’s faces and hands?”</p><p>“Granger,” Emily’s kids reply in chorus, the tone telling her that this is a familiar battle even after only three and a half months at school.</p><p>Draco rolls his eyes at his friends. “Yes, Dobby. And address them both with Granger as the family name.”</p><p>The creature snaps its fingers, and everyone is soot-free instantly. Emily feels her eyebrows go up at the casual use of magic but forces them back down; she’s in a magical home, she reminds herself again. </p><p>“Emily, do you feel well enough to join Mother in the parlor for some tea? We will sit for supper when Father and Sam arrive.”</p><p>She agrees easily and stands with the unnecessary aid of a boy pulling at either arm. When she regains her feet, she hesitates, staring at the fireplace.</p><p>“Draco, do you know if this is real wood?”</p><p>The blond boy stares at her, mouth working soundlessly for a long moment. Eventually he gathers himself. “Of course it is. Oak. Do muggles somehow have wood that isn’t wood?”</p><p>“We do. It’s much less expensive than real oak.” She turns slowly in a circle to take in the entire room. The walls are silver with little green accents that remind her of snakes but aren’t quite snakes. She remembers Harry telling her that Draco belongs to Slytherin House at Hogwarts, with a snake mascot and silver and green as the House colors. Perhaps his ancestors were also a part of the house. A candelabra hangs from the center of the vaulted ceiling - no, it floats, and the light is cast by real candles set in what is probably real silver, under a dark green ceiling with small silver stars forming the constellations she’d learned as a girl. An ornate urn sits on the oak fireplace.</p><p>“Emily?”</p><p>“What is this?” she asks curiously, turning the urn slightly to get a better look at the design etched onto its silver surface.</p><p>Draco comes up to her side and points at one of the three people on the urn. “This is my ancestor Lord Flavius Malfoy, who worked as a witch hunter in the muggle world to smuggle true witches and wizards out of danger rather than allow them to be burned at the stake. To the left is a muggle zealot, and to the right is a young wizard he’s saving. A muggle lord commissioned this urn as a gift for Lord Flavius and filled it with the ashes of each of his victims, or so the muggle thought. Lord Flavius brought it home and kept a flower in it for each magic user he rescued. My family has used it for floo powder for generations - it represents saving magic from fire, so now it holds the magic that lets us travel by fire.”</p><p>“Wow.”</p><p>“Yeah, Draco, that’s really cool!” Harry adds to his mother’s response.</p><p>The blond grins. “It was one of my favorite Malfoy legends growing up,” he tells them with the air of confiding a great secret. “Come on. We’ll come back in here on the tour if you have any more questions. I’d rather not keep Mother waiting too long.”</p><p>Lucius and Sam have just entered the parlor when Emily and the kids find the door, so they all embark on a tour of the great manor home with the promise of tea and relaxing after supper. Narcissa promises to show Emily each of the moving portraits, pictures, and tapestries another time just to get the tour finished before it gets too late to eat. They end in a massive dining room with unpainted light wood floor, walls, and ceiling and a heavy dark wood table in the center. The head chair looks almost like a throne. Eight places are set at the table, though Emily only counts seven people and wonders if the Dobby creature or some other person is joining them.</p><p>Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius move to their places seamlessly, standing behind three of the chairs at the table, and there’s a beat of silence before Lucius bows his head briefly. “Forgive me,” he tells the Grangers. “Young Master Potter-Burke-Granger, your place is between myself and Young Master Malfoy. Young Mistress Burke-Granger, your place is beside Madam Malfoy, Assumed Mistress of Black. Mrs Burke-Granger, Assumed Mistress of Burke, your place is beside Young Mistress Burke-Granger and across from Young Master Malfoy. Mr Granger, your place is at the foot of the table. The two of you,” Emily notices him making deliberate and prolonged eye contact with herself and her husband, “must not look directly at the head setting at any point during the meal.”</p><p>She exchanges a quick glance with her husband. It’s odd, but they’re from an entirely different culture. Empty setting at the head of the table that only the two nonmagical are not allowed to look at. “As you say, Lucius,” she responds politely.</p><p>“When the food appears, we first give thanks and then give our offerings to the gods and goddesses through our proxy,” Narcissa explains with a gesture to the head setting. “Each title holder - every person except Sam - is to choose the best serving of food on the platter in front of them and place it onto the plate, which we will pass around without magic. Emily, as you hold a title but do not possess purposeful magic, you serve the proxy but are not permitted to touch the plate.”</p><p>“Might I ask, is this a type of religious thing?” Sam questions, and it’s Draco who replies.</p><p>“Yes, it is. Passing the plate without magic is, like serving the best of the food, a type of sacrifice.”</p><p>Emily nods and smiles. “So if I were to pass the plate, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice because I don’t have magic not to use.”</p><p>Lucius and Narcissa trade almost startled glances. “Yes, that sounds right,” he answers. “I had not considered the meaning behind the gesture in that way. I asked an expert how to handle having you at supper and did not question the reasons for his answer.”</p><p>“And I don’t offer food because I don’t have a title and therefore probably don’t have enough to sacrifice and remain healthy,” Sam adds.</p><p>“Again, that sounds right,” Lucius says slowly.</p><p>Emily decides not to ask why only those with magic can look at the proxy’s place setting. She knows that sometimes religions can be racist, she knows that magic vs non magic is pretty much a race issue to wizards, and she doesn’t want to open that can of worms right now. There will be plenty of time after they eat.</p><p>“Now we take our seats,” Lucius announces.</p><p>“We seat ourselves before our gods and goddesses,” Draco and Narcissa reply in unison. They pull out their chairs smoothly and in a practiced, simultaneous manner; all four Grangers rush to join.</p><p>“We ask the great earth to provide her bounty for us,” Lucius says as soon as everyone is seated.</p><p>“Elves of the earth, deliver a feast to us,” his family replies. Emily hears her husband gasp along with her as heaping platters appear on the table. They’ve read in their children’s letters about the food that just shows up on the table without any visible transportation, but seeing it in person is different.</p><p>“O proxy to the deities, take our hopes and wishes along with our sacrifices.”</p><p>“We offer them to you.”</p><p>Narcissa takes the plate from the head setting and leans forward to carefully inspect the beans in front of her before gently placing a healthy serving on the plate and passing it to Hermione. Hermione bites her bottom lip as she examines the rolls and lifts one carefully with the serving utensil, breathing a sigh of relief as the bread’s integrity holds. She turns to her mother, holding the plate carefully. Emily looks over the roast pork and chooses a tender, moist piece without much fat to add to the plate. She’s not sure what the Malfoys’ gods think of fatty meat, but that’s the piece she would choose for herself, so it must be in the spirit of the sacrifice to give it to gods.</p><p>Hermione walks the plate around the table to hand it to Draco, who scoops and shapes mashed potatoes before adding gravy. Harry selects a piece of turkey that Emily would find far too dry but knows is exactly her son’s preference. Finally, Lucius places a spoonful of mixed fruit on the plate, careful not to get it in the gravy running off the potatoes. He sets the plate reverently back in the spot it came from and nods.</p><p>“Thank you,” he tells the Grangers. “I would like to hear about the religion you grew up with, of course, but here is not an appropriate time or place. If there is a religious practice you require before eating, I ask that you do it quietly if possible.”</p><p>They’ve prayed silently at meals regularly since Hermione was old enough to understand how to do so. Sam had grown up not allowed to pray for himself until he was an adult, and he was determined that their daughter - and then their son - have more confidence doing so than he did. Emily reaches for her daughter and husband’s hands, pleased to see them and Harry all reaching out at the same time. There’s a weird moment where Draco stares awkwardly at the hands not quite meeting in front of him, then he sighs.</p><p>“Sam, Father, is it better if I include myself to complete the circle or stay out of it?”</p><p>“We would be happy to have you, but it’s not required,” Sam answers.</p><p>Lucius frowns. “I’m uncertain, son. Could you explain the ritual, Sam?”</p><p>“We pray silently while holding hands, and when each of us is done, we squeeze the hands of those on either side. It connects us as a family even while we follow our spirituality privately.”</p><p>“Oh!” Narcissa exclaims. “Why, Draco, as long as you are praying within our religion, that should be looked on very favorably. I believe I should like to join as well, if that’s allowed.”</p><p>Emily smiles. “Of course! We welcome all of you, if you would like, but we would not judge you in any way for remaining apart from it.”</p><p>Harry and Hermione release each other’s hands and reach for Lucius and Narcissa, who are already stretching to hold hands with each other across the table.</p><p>“When we all finish, we usually say Amen out loud,” Sam says with a questioning look at the Malfoys.</p><p>“We don’t typically use the word, but its meaning would be true for our prayers as well. We will join you in saying it today.”</p><p>They all bow their heads and close their eyes. Emily finds herself praying thanksgiving more than anything else - for their children coming home, for the upcoming holiday together, for having the Malfoys as friends, for having Lucius Malfoy as a political ally, for the way Draco is friends with both of her children even though he’s closer to one than the other, for the support of an old wizarding family in her children going by Granger, for their openness to alternate religious beliefs, for the inclusion in the Malfoys’ beliefs, for magic, for the fact that she has two beautiful, brilliant, loving children. She briefly considers praying for the Malfoys to convert to Christianity, but she revises it before the thought becomes prayer and asks that they find Jesus in their lives. Their beliefs are as much tradition as faith, and leaving tradition is very difficult. Perhaps they can come to Jesus without leaving their traditions.</p><p>She feels a squeeze from Sam, then one from Hermione. A quick addition to ask for health and happiness to all at the table, and she squeezes both of their hands, opens her eyes, and lifts her head. As usual, she was the last one praying, so she smiles and squeezes the hands on either side of her again, pleased to see the squeeze rippling through the circle. “Amen,” she says, and everyone echoes it back to her.</p><p>“Are there any more traditions, or can we eat now?” Harry asks, blushing when his stomach growls as if to emphasize his request.</p><p>“We can eat now,” Lucius answers with an expression of poorly concealed amusement.</p>
<hr/><p>For the second time that day, Sam feels the horrible squeezing sensation that is apparation. He stumbles to his customary seat in the living room and swallows hard against the nausea to no avail. Lucius makes no comment as he vanishes Sam's mess; he sets a hand on the muggle man's shoulder and waits for eye contact. </p><p>"I'm okay," Sam tells the tall blond man. </p><p>"Then I will return shortly with your wife," Lucius responds, disappearing with a pop. Sam looks around his home, wondering how it must seem to a wizard with an enormous manor. He decides that it doesn't really matter, though. Home is home, and none in his family have ever asked for something larger. He knows that each of his children owns at least one magical home as well, so it's possible they'll grow up to live in a mansion. In the meantime, if the Malfoys judge the family for the size of their home, then they aren't real friends. </p><p>There's another pop, louder than the one Lucius made when he left, and Sam looks up just in time to watch his wife vomit. Lucius cleans it up expressionlessly before escorting Emily to the couch. </p><p>"Is there any magical travel that doesn't make you sick?" she mutters, closing her eyes and leaning back slowly. </p><p>Lucius chuckles. "Most of our travel requires a couple of trips for your body to acclimate. Those without magic have a harder time, I have heard, though I do not know if that is true or merely rumor."</p><p>"It makes sense," Sam comments thoughtfully, then meets Lucius's curious gaze and elaborates. "We've been reading along with the kids' Magical Theory class and learning from Remus. If you think about a duel, a magically stronger person requires less of a shield to block a curse than a magically weaker person does, because their innate magic is always working to protect them even a little bit. Curses on muggles are most effective because we don't have magic to protect us. I would guess then that your innate magic acclimates to your magical travel and protects you from the nausea or other side effects."</p><p>"Then a person with less magic takes more time to acclimate or feels it more strongly," Lucius adds with a thoughtful look on his face. "Sam, I believe you could be on to something. It takes less out of me to apparate your squib wife than it does to apparate you, a muggle; perhaps her small bit of magic helps keep her tied to me during the journey while my magic must do all the work for you."</p><p>Sam leans forward, nausea forgotten. "How do we compare to you taking a magical child or magical adult with you?"</p><p>A small frown winds onto Lucius's face as he thinks. "I'm not entirely sure," he admits after a long moment. "I will have to pay attention in the future. Allow me to collect your children now, though." He waits until Sam nods in agreement before disappearing with a pop. </p><p>"Are you okay?" Sam asks his wife, and she nods. </p><p>"It takes a few minutes to wear off, I suppose."</p><p>Two pops ring through the house, one considerably louder than the other, and both of the adult Malfoys draw their wands to vanish the mess each Granger child makes. Draco is halfway around the walls of the living room, inspecting each item he comes across without touching it, when Sam’s children join their mother on the couch.</p><p>“Are these your parents, Emily?” the young blond boy asks, and Sam glances at his wife before joining Draco in front of the picture.</p><p>“Yes, they are,” he answers. “This picture was taken about a month before Jessie passed, eight years ago.”</p><p>Draco frowns. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He turns back to the room at large, and Sam smiles at the undisguised curiosity on the elder Malfoys’ faces as they, too, examine the features of the thoroughly muggle house.</p><p>“Would you like to see the rest of the house?” Sam offers, and his children pop up from the couch with huge grins on their faces.</p><p>They backtrack to the front door at Emily’s suggestions, though Narcissa quickly vetoes the idea to see the outside of the house. “What would your neighbors think if they saw us step out of the house but never saw us arrive and never saw us leave?” she asks. Logic accepted, Hermione steps back to the living room for a picture of the family in front of the house to show their guests instead.</p><p>Lucius is confused at the idea of the family cooking their own meals, Narcissa jumps and brandishes her wand when Hermione lights the gas stove in demonstration, and Draco opens and closes the icebox about fifty times before accepting it, but the kitchen is by far the biggest surprise to the Malfoy family. Sam smiles to himself when the computer in his office is barely noticed, thinking that it will make an interesting day when he shows it at work. Their bedrooms are smaller than those at Malfoy Manor, but Narcissa proclaims them “quite excellently decorated.” The trouble starts as they exit Harry’s room, the last of the upstairs tour.</p><p>“It’s a shame your stairs don’t move like ours do,” Draco comments. “It must get tiring walking up and down them every time you want to be on a different floor.”</p><p>“Well, we have fewer flights than you,” Hermione points out sensibly, but Harry grins mischievously.</p><p>“Watch this! It’s better than riding your stairs!” He grabs the top of the rail beside the stairs, jumps a bit, and hoists himself up onto it. Sam reaches for him but stumbles over the smallest blond in front of him. Harry pushes off and with a delighted laugh slides all the way down the banister, teetering precariously but landing on the ground floor with a flourish and a bow.</p><p>There’s silence for a brief moment, then Draco’s impressed exclamation is easily drowned out by Emily’s shout.</p><p>“HARRY JAMES GRANGER, YOU WALK RIGHT BACK UP THOSE STAIRS AND SHOW OUR GUESTS YOU KNOW HOW TO WALK DOWN THEM!”</p><p>Harry flinches, and Sam curses under his breath. He’d been all but done with the fear reactions toward his adoptive parents when they put him on the train to Hogwarts; this is not a good start on his first vacation from school. “Yes, Mum. Sorry, Mum” he answers with his head ducked, scuttling back up the stairs. “Sorry, Dad,” he whispers as he hits the top step, turning immediately to go back down. Sam reaches out, but Harry ducks away with another flinch before freezing, eyes wide.</p><p>“Mum, Dad, I’d like to see the muggle icebox again,” Draco announces, leading them down the stairs without waiting for an answer. Sam nods to Lucius’s inquiring gaze and waits until the family is out of sight before dropping into a squat in front of his still-frozen son.</p><p>“Harry?” he asks in the most gentle voice he can, not reaching for the boy despite his longing to do so. </p><p>The boy scuffs at the carpet with his shoe before glancing up briefly, though he doesn’t hold eye contact. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of guests,” he mumbles.</p><p>“Harry!” Hermione exclaims, but Sam shoots her a quelling look and jerks his head toward the stairs. She hesitates several times but eventually goes down and heads in the direction the Malfoys went.</p><p>“Son, I would be upset even if you did that when it was just the two of us home,” Sam says gently, but Harry draws in on himself a bit. Sam sighs and sits on the top stair with his feet two steps down. “You can join me if you want to,” he offers, unsurprised when the pale boy doesn’t move. It feels like he’s gone a couple years into the past and is dealing with a child full of fresh trauma and insecurity. Their therapist had mentioned this possibility when Harry left for Hogwarts, but it’s still a painful surprise to actually encounter it. “Do you know why I would be upset?”</p><p>Harry’s face contorts for a moment before tears splash off his cheeks and onto his shoes. “It’s against the rules.”</p><p>He’s not wrong, but…. “Why do we have a rule against sliding down the banister, Harry?”</p><p>There’s a long moment of quiet, and Sam swears up and down in his head at the silent sobbing his son learned from the Dursleys. “Because you can get hurt,” Harry finally answers.</p><p>“Very good,” Sam replies, “but I want you to rephrase it. Why are you not allowed to slide down the banister?”</p><p>Harry’s hesitation is almost tangible, but he finally squeezes out, “I could get hurt?”</p><p>Sam smiles softly and nods encouragingly when green eyes peek up at his own brown eyes. “That’s right, son. I don’t want you to get hurt. I was upset because you could have gotten hurt. Your mother was upset because you could have gotten hurt. We get scared when we think you or your sister might get hurt. Sometimes when we’re scared, we yell or act angry.”</p><p>“You do?” Harry blurts out, looking surprised.</p><p>“We do. It’s normal to feel angry when you’re really scared. That’s one way your mind tries to protect you.”</p><p>Harry’s eyes are wide and finally holding Sam’s gaze. “I didn’t know that,” he whispers slowly. “I thought I was just a fr—“</p><p>Sam smiles at the blush on his son’s face. “It’s normal and healthy,” he reiterates. “Acting on it too much is where it can be a problem, but feeling that anger is normal.”</p><p>“I’m normal,” Harry repeats with a touch of wonder, and Sam reaches out slowly, encouraged when Harry bypasses the hand to hug his father.</p><p>“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” Sam replies in a carefully teasing voice, and Harry tugs at Sam’s tightly curled hair.</p><p>“Thanks, Dad,” he mutters with infinite sarcasm.</p><p>“Any time.” Sam laughs when that earns him another hair tug. “Feeling better?”</p><p>Harry nods against his dad’s neck before pulling back. “Sorry I overreacted.”</p><p>“Harry.”</p><p>The boy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, lips moving soundlessly as he closes his eyes. Two more slow breaths pass before green eyes meet Sam’s again. “Thank you for helping me deal with my emotions?” he tries.</p><p>Sam grins. “Much better, and you’re welcome. I’m sorry I scared you when I was upset.”</p><p>“Uh, and…” Harry looks away, scuffs the carpet with his toes again. “I’m sorry I broke the rule and scared you. I didn’t think about it.”</p><p>“Apology accepted. I forgive you. Please try to be more careful in the future.” Sam grabs the banister with one hand and hauls himself to his feet, reaching out a hand to his son. “Shall we go apologize to your mother and our guests?”</p><p>Harry makes a face but takes his dad’s hand. “And Hermione.”</p><p>“And me what?” The small dark face appears between the rails of the banister as they reach the halfway point on the staircase, and Sam rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Is there any point in sending you away if you’re just going to eavesdrop?” he asks rhetorically.</p><p>Hermione ignores his question in favor of meeting them at the bottom to hug her brother. “Everyone’s in the kitchen,” she informs them. “Draco’s making toast.”</p><p>“Why?” Sam asks, rubbing his stomach that’s still plenty full from their meal at the Malfoys not two hours earlier.</p><p>“He’s fascinated by the toaster,” Hermione answers with a grin over her shoulder.</p><p>“Oh dear.” If nothing else, they can save the toast and warm it in the oven for breakfast.</p><p>“Harry! Come here!”</p><p>Sam laughs at the positive mountain of toast beside their youngest guest. He doubts there’s a slice of untoasted bread remaining in the house at this point. Harry stops in the doorway to the kitchen, though, and doesn’t approach his friend. After a short moment of silence, he speaks.</p><p>“Madam Malfoy, Governor Malfoy, Young Master Malfoy, please forgive my inexcusable demonstration on the stairs. I will do my best to ensure it does not happen again,” he says formally, ending with a shallow but long bow.</p><p>“Young Mast—“</p><p>“Wait,” Draco interrupts his parents, who look completely taken aback by the move. The boy meets Hermione’s gaze and cocks his head to the side questioningly. She nods once, and Draco turns back to Harry. “Harry, can you tell me what the inexcusable demonstration was?”</p><p>Sam lets a puff of air escape with a surprised noise, then smiles approvingly at Draco. If his children have taught the young blond the rule on specific apologies, if he’s comfortable enough with them to make sure Harry’s apologizing for sliding down the rail instead of his fear response, then Draco must be a closer friend than he realized.</p><p>“I broke a rule that was made to keep me safe,” Harry answers after the barest hesitation. “It might have made you want to do the same, too, and I want you to be safe, Draco.”</p><p>Three blond heads nod simultaneously and three Malfoy voices respond, “Young Master Potter-Burke-Granger, you are forgiven.” They return his bow with their own bow and curtsy, and Sam makes a mental note to learn this formal language.</p><p>“I need to tell you something, Harry,” Draco says quietly as soon as the bowing is over. “I, uh, I told my parents something about you without your permission. They were concerned about your reaction at … well, I told them you had a bad life before the Grangers. I’m sorry for not asking you first.”</p><p>Harry nods and steps over to his friend, punching him lightly in the arm. “Did you do it to make them understand my parents aren’t the ones who … made me like that?” When Draco nods, Harry shrugs. “Then I forgive you. No details, though.”</p><p>Draco snorts and punches Harry back. “Like I know any details to tell them,” he grouses without any heat. “They’re going to want to know what kinds of things they shouldn’t do around you and how to help you feel safe if they make a mistake, though. Before you come stay for Yule, I mean.”</p><p>Sam’s pleased with the Slytherin’s matter of fact tone and casual body language, even as his son visibly startles.</p><p>“They still want me to come?”</p><p>Draco rolls his eyes. “Yes, and so do I, and I imagine so does your sister. Your mum was just working out details with Father."</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>Dear Anthony,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Thank you again for the invitation to spend Yule with you &amp; your family. I know I would have had fun, but Harry is really happy here at Malfoy Manor. Of course, I’m also having a good time! But not as good as I would have with you. But the Malfoys are great hosts! I don’t mean anything against them! Oh, you know what I mean, I’m sure.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I know you grew up with much of the same religion as the Malfoys, so I won’t bore you with <b>too</b> many details. I hope next year you’ll invite me to your house for Yule so I can really compare the little differences and understand wizarding culture that much better!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>One thing I learned is that while Draco said ‘Yule’ to us in school, his family calls it ‘Géol’ at home. Do you do that, too? He said Géol is the true name at least within his subtype of pureblooded religion. (I’m going to call it denomination now, which is how muggles would describe it.) Apparently it’s an insult to call it otherwise within your own home or when around other practitioners, but until we were in Malfoy Manor, Draco could call it Yule to us because Harry and I aren’t part of his denomination. He said that in other countries and maybe some here (I have a letter out to Padma and her sister about this!), people with different practices - so from other denominations - may have a different true name but that everyone recognizes ‘Yule’. I wonder why that came to be?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Of course, Harry and I just got here yesterday, and it’s not yet the day of celebration, but I wanted to write you anyway. Draco said some denominations won’t write letters during Yule season, or not on the day of celebration at least, so don’t worry about it if you can’t reply. I hope it won’t bother you if I write more letters, though! Even if you know all of this already, I have to share my new knowledge with someone!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I hope you’re having a great holiday! See you in January!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Love,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hermione Granger</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>Dear Hermione,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>My ‘denomination’ allows very limited letter-writing - emergencies, very close family members separated during the season, and explanations like this one. We can read as much as we like, as long as you promise to keep it respectful of my traditions - talking about how Draco’s are different is fine! </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I’ll write when Yule is over to answer some of your questions. Keep writing! I like hearing from you!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Anthony Goldstein</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>Dear Anthony,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Interesting! Draco didn’t mention limited writing. He’s not permitted to write on the day on celebration only, so I guess that’s a short enough time he doesn’t ever have a need to write that can’t wait until the next morning. What counts as an emergency, and who are “very close” family members? What would be disrespectful, other than calling your traditions dumb? (I’m not doing that, though! I’m just trying to understand!)</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It seems like the Malfoys don’t have a lot of traditions other than on the day itself. The ritual when we sit at the table for meals is more Yule-focused than it was on our first visit, and Draco says that’s typical for the season for them. As we select our offerings to the gods - should it be the Gods? I never asked Draco - we mention something we’re grateful for that the gods of the season are responsible for. Narcissa has been helping me, since I don’t know the gods very well yet. Harry doesn’t want to tell me who, but I’m sure someone’s helping him as well. At supper tonight, I thanked Odin for the runes that give us so much through wards and in communicating with other species. (I’m definitely taking Ancient Runes in third year!)</i>
</p><p>
  <i>That’s all for tonight, because it’s getting a bit late. I’ll write soon!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Love,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hermione</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>Dear Anthony,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>There’s a big deal made out of trios or trinities - I’m guessing you’re familiar with it. It’s interesting because there’s an important trinity in our religion as well: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Draco tells us that most families that follow the old religion have either one child, to keep the family a trio, or three children to make the next generation a trio! Harry is apparently special because he has a trio of family names in Granger, Potter, and Burke. That’s also where middle names come from, Narcissa told me. The stories I heard as a child were about witches (not real witches, but the kind muggles believe in) being able to control you with magic if they knew your full name. You got a middle name but kept it secret so you were safe from witches. Only your family knew, and then you could tell someone else if you trusted them a lot! I’m glad that’s not something we have to worry about - our middle names are on all kinds of forms for school!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tomorrow is the day of Yule, so I won’t write then. I think it would be disrespectful of the Malfoys religion to write while I’m in their house, but I also want the full experience of their religion, of course. I hope your celebrations are good!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Love,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hermione</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>Dear Anthony,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>WOW! I kind of knew what to expect from all three Malfoys telling us their traditions beforehand, but …</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I don’t know if you’ll understand this, but remember that I grew up thinking magic was a fairy tale, something made up for little kids. I stopped believing in magic when I was five, Anthony. We’ve talked about what a big deal it was for me to learn magic was real, but this holiday is even … bigger, somehow? In school, we’re surrounded by magic every day, and we’re doing magic every day. On holiday, well, at home, there’s no magic. It’s easy to forget magic is even real except when Remus comes over, and even then he doesn’t usually use magic because he’s the only one who can. He helps with cooking and cleaning up like a muggle, just like he’s one of the family (more on that another time, I think).</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Here at the Malfoys, I still can’t do magic outside of school. There’s magic around me, but I’m kind of used to the everyday magic. I forget I’m magical, though. I know that’s probably hard for you to understand, but it’s true. I forget that I can do magic. And then something like Yule happens. I don’t know your traditions, but WOW again.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>We passed the plate of the gods, as usual, but instead of just picking the best food or saying something, we had to concentrate on what the gods mean to us, what Yule means to us, and also focus on our magic. Draco told us that sometimes the adults make some magic and we needed to stay silent and focused if they did, but that was nothing compared to what actually happened.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Narcisssa chose three different types of meat, closed her eyes, and then there was a burst of gold and green magic from the plate and from her. I can’t describe it, Anthony. It wasn’t visible, but I knew what color it is. I knew where it came from and how big it was, but I couldn’t see it. It was amazing. Then I chose from the two vegetable trays by me, and I could feel magic coming out of me, into the plate, mixing with … something … and then bursting out for the others to … feel? see? Anthony, this is so hard to tell you about, even knowing you may have experienced it, too.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Draco’s magic was silvery-gold and light blue, kind of like his hair and eyes. It was a lot smaller than Narcissa’s (and Lucius’s). Harry was dark blue, dark green, and white, and nearly as big as Narcissa’s! Lucius’s was … “bright black” isn’t really a color, but it’s the only way I can describe it. Bright black with little streaks of green and gold.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I want to ask Narcissa about it, but I’m not sure if it’s respectful. I might try later today, but I wanted to write you first thing after breakfast today before I forgot anything. I hope you’ll share your experiences, if you can!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tomorrow, Draco will come home with Harry and me. We don’t have any plans for the day, but I think we’ll just show him some muggle things. Then we have Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, then he’ll go home for the last of the holiday.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hope to hear from you soon - I’m not sure how long your season of Yule lasts or when you can write again, so please don’t think I want to mess with your traditions!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Love,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hermione</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>Hermione,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The day after Yule, the season is considered over. I think I’d rather talk about it in person than in letters, though, if that’s okay? It’s not a respect thing, just will be easier. Good thought to write down your observations right away, though!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Have a happy Christmas, Hermione, and wish Draco, Harry, and your parents the same. Tutor Lupin as well, of course, if you’ll be seeing him, and any other family!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Anthony</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>“Truce!” Draco shouts when he feels a sharp pain in his side. He slows to a walk, panting from being chased around the back garden by his friends. “Truce, Grangers, truce. Ow. Merlin.”</p><p>Harry grins at him and prods him in the arm. “Stitch in your side?” he asks.</p><p>“Yeah. Let’s sit.” Draco jumps up onto the closest part of the play set, some tires attached to planks so they led up to a platform at about his chest height. He climbs up onto the platform and sits on the edge with his feet hanging over and his arms resting on the rail. “Join me?”</p><p>He hears the slight creak of the hanging bridge behind him and shifts to one side so Hermione can sit beside him, but Harry stays on the ground in front of them. “I’m not coming up until you admit that Christmas is better than Yule.”</p><p>“I can’t, you daft muggle-lover. I’ve never seen a Christmas. Ask me this time tomorrow, yeah?”</p><p>“Seriously, Harry,” Hermione agrees. “Draco, have you ever gone to a church service?”</p><p>He’s seriously beginning to regret talking his parents into this cultural exchange. “No, we only do the druidic things and that’s always just the family.”</p><p>“Okay, well, we go to church every Christmas Eve. We all wear our nice clothes—“</p><p>“The suit Father transfigured for me is okay?”</p><p>Hermione smiles even as Harry sniggers. The boy might be his closer friend, but Hermione is definitely nicer about his anxieties in this situation. “Yes, it’s wonderful. I helped him with the design to be sure it’s perfectly muggle. It’s nicer than Harry’s suit, actually.”</p><p>“Hey! Why’d you do that? You should let your brother be the best dressed one!” Harry protests.</p><p>“Oh, shut it, Granger,” Draco complains half-heartedly. Truthfully, even knowing that the siblings are almost as rich as he is, he feels awkward being the best dressed one all the time. It was okay at his manor when everything looked as nice as him, but here in the Grangers’ home, he stands out uncomfortably.</p><p>“Anyway, the service is pretty straight forward. You just do what we do,” Hermione continues. He has plenty of practice in following their lead where their muggle religion is concerned: Mrs Granger prays to their God before each meal, and Draco bows his head and listens quietly as she does so. He doesn’t share their beliefs, of course, but there’s something very poetic about the way she prays. More importantly, he can see how much the beliefs affect her life and the whole family’s lives. They take as much comfort in their God as he does in his gods and goddesses, and since they give all life, he has to believe that the muggle God was given life by the Dagda. </p><p>“And Christmas day is when you open presents?”</p><p>Harry grins at him. “Yep! And then we have breakfast together and spend the day playing with our new toys and reading our new books.”</p><p>“Would you like to hear the story of Jesus again?” Hermione offers when Draco doesn’t reply  to her brother for a long moment.</p><p>He shakes his head, then has to shake it again to get the blond hair back out of his eyes. “Miracle baby made by your God, born in the stable with the animals, had a magic star following him around for three years, going to save all of us from our sins. And you seem to want to keep that part of the story secret.”</p><p>“It’s better if you hear it the first time in the spring,” Harry explains. “That’s when it all goes together. You’ll see. Hey, could magic really explain the star following Jesus around?”</p><p>“I have no idea. Isn’t Tutor Lupin coming tomorrow? Ask him.”</p><p>Harry shrugs, and Draco gets the idea that there will be more interesting things for his friend tomorrow than a discussion on theoretical magic and how it mixes with a decidedly non-magical religion.</p><p>Emily Granger’s voice calls from the direction of the house, and three young heads turn to see her standing on the back porch with a beer in one hand. “Kids! Your father says twenty minutes until dinner. One more go on the slide for each of you, then come in and wash up. I’d like you to help me set the table.”</p><p>Draco jumps to his feet but pauses to offer Hermione a hand up. By the time she’s declined and he’s turned around to face the slide, Harry is halfway up the bright red plastic monstrosity. Draco likes slides - sometimes muggles have brilliant ideas - but he doesn’t understand how his friend can be so obsessed with climbing up something you’re supposed to sit on and slide down. Still, he and Hermione wait patiently for three false starts before reaching out in perfect synchronicity to grab Harry by the armpits and haul him up onto the platform. Emily laughs from the back doorway, raising her bottle a few inches in a small amused salute when Draco catches her eye.</p><p>There’s a lot about staying in a muggle house that’s different or difficult, but he can’t imagine even making the effort for any other family. Not only is Harry the best friend Draco has ever had, but Hermione is close to being Draco’s sister, and their parents treat him no differently from their own children, now that he’s had a day to get used to the house rules. </p><p>“Do you have any rituals like we do tomorrow? I mean like things at meals or restrictions on contacting the outside world,” Draco asks as he follows Harry around the table, laying flatware around each plate Harry deposits.</p><p>“Not really,” Sam answers from the kitchen. “We used to each say what Jesus means to us or something we’re grateful for that he makes possible, but we stopped that when Hermione was too young to remember. We might start it again this year, now that you bring it up.”</p><p>Draco smiles at his friends’ father. “So what does he make possible that I’m grateful for? I’m going to need some help here if I want to join in. And I do want to! I want to really be a full part of this Christ-mass.”</p><p>“Christmas,” Hermione corrects. </p><p>Draco frowns at her as he lays the last of the flatware. “I thought you went to a Mass about Christ?”</p><p>“We do, and that must be where the holiday gets its name, but we still call it Christmas at home. It’s not like your family’s traditions and Yule.” Hermione pats his arm as she drops the last glass into place. “Make sense?”</p><p>He snorts. “No, but I can say it the right way now, if that’s what you mean. I won’t get it mixed up again. But … Is the Mass called Christ-Mass?”</p><p>“I’ve never heard it,” Harry says at the same time as his father replies, “Nope.”</p><p>“Then your religion is sorely lacking in the naming things department,” Draco pronounces with humor in his voice. He really believes it, but he knows better than to seriously make fun of religious customs. He would be furious if someone spoke ill of Dagda or Nodens.</p><p>“Yup,” Harry agrees. “Your religion beats us on that count, I’ll admit it.”</p><p>“Hermione, why don’t you go ahead and get the box with the nativity out so we’re ready after dinner?” Emily suggests, and both her children go to follow her command. “Draco, I need to talk to you. Will you sit?”</p><p>He complies, eyes wide. Had he gone too far with his joke about the names? Was she going to send him home? How would he even get there with no magical adults to apparate him? </p><p>“Oh, relax, honey, it’s not anything bad, I promise,” Emily says, setting a hand on his knee as he settles into a chair. “I just wanted to talk about everything we’ll be doing tomorrow. I don’t understand your customs, so I don’t understand if there might be anything you can’t do with us. You need to know that it’s okay. Any time you need to step out or not participate, it’s fine. Nobody will be upset with you. We want you to be happy, and that includes letting you stand aside if your religion requires it of you. Or even if you just don’t want to participate. Okay?”</p><p>Draco sags into his chair, relieved that she isn’t putting him out into the cold with no way home. “Okay. Thank you, Emily.”</p><p>“Tomorrow, Remus - Tutor Lupin - is going to join us as well. You know that my children know him well, call him by his first name, and hug him. You’re not required to do either, but I’m sure he would welcome it if you wanted to,” Emily adds.</p><p>“Thank you,” Draco repeats, not sure what else to do. He knew he was okay with the man visiting, but he hadn’t thought about those points.</p><p>Emily smiles and slaps his knee gently. “Okay, that’s all, I promise. Sam?”</p><p>“I’m pulling it out of the oven now.”</p>
<hr/><p>“We have to wait breakfast on Remus,” Harry insists. “It’s not a family meal unless everyone is here.”</p><p>A knock sounds on the door, and Harry grins. “Can I get it?”</p><p>“Can <i>we</i> get it?” Hermione amends.</p><p>“Yes, go ahead, but shout back if it’s not him, okay?”</p><p>Harry and Hermione leap to their feet, and Draco jumps up to follow them for no real reason. He’s not emotionally invested in Remus Lupin, but it seems less awkward to join his friends than to sit with their parents.</p><p>“Remus!” Harry shouts, throwing himself at the man and wrapping his arms tightly around the tutor’s waist.</p><p>“You made it!” Hermione cries, mirroring her brother’s pose on Remus’s other side.</p><p>“Tutor Lupin, it’s good to see you.” Draco is pleasantly surprised to find that it’s true. Not so much because of himself or the man, but because he’s happy to see his friends so happy.</p><p>The man smiles down at him. “You too, Mister Malfoy, but you can call me Remus if you’re comfortable with it.”</p><p>“Remus,” Draco acknowledges. “Then I must of course be Draco to you.”</p><p>Remus smiles and gently disengages the Granger children from him. “Can I come inside?” he asks rhetorically, shutting the door behind him as soon as they move enough to allow his entrance. “I’m guessing nobody in this house has missed me.”</p><p>Harry slaps Remus on the hip as his sister huffs. “Of course they have,” Draco replies, catching the humor too late and trying desperately to cover for it. “Uh, they missed you so much they can’t stand to be near you?”</p><p>Draco’s best friend snickers at his attempt, but Hermione and Remus both laugh what seem to be genuine laughs.</p><p>“Kids—“</p><p>“Coming, Dad!” Harry and Hermione call loudly in perfect synchronization.</p><p>Remus reaches a hand to Draco as the other two rush away. “Please know that you don’t need to pretend to be friends with me just because they are. I’m perfectly happy with a polite but reserved relationship with you, should that be your preference.”</p><p>Draco takes a moment to parse the thought. “Understood,” he replies eventually. “However, I am genuinely happy that you are here, if only because it makes my friends so happy to have you around. At the same time, you were an outstanding professor. I have missed you in that way.”</p><p>The man smiles down at him. “That is a solid basis for any kind of relationship.”</p><p>“DRACO!! REMUS!!”</p><p>“HARRY JAMES GRANGER! Is this your version of patience and obeying your parents?”</p><p>Draco and Remus exchanged an amused but still slightly horrified glance. “We’d better get in there before he gets in more trouble.”</p><p>“There’s no greater crime in the Granger household than shouting at the dinner table on Christmas,” Remus offers in a way that leaves Draco completely unclear if it’s truth or a joke. The man must have been a menace during his Hogwarts days. “I had one more thing to say, if you’ll permit?”</p><p>Draco nods hesitantly.</p><p>“I must apologize to you. At the beginning of term, I warned Harry and Hermione about your family’s past. I’m now sure that was not the right thing to do, as it left them judging you unfairly. I’m certain they would have been friends with you more quickly had I not done that. After getting to know you as a professor and hearing from Sam and Emily how your cultural exchange has been going, I know I did the wrong thing. Draco Malfoy, I am sorry for how my actions impacted your friendships. The Right of the Wronged is yours.”</p><p>Draco felt his mouth drop open and rushed to close it. The Right of the Wronged, owed to an eleven year old boy? It was unheard of! “Thank you for your apology, Remus Lupin. As our customs state, I may not take action until I reach age fifteen, and I may not hint at what that action will be until the same age. However, I believe I am within my rights to tell you that the apology means quite a bit to me, and I understand that you were only trying to protect Harry and Hermione - a goal I can certainly get behind. On that note, let’s protect Harry from further misbehavior by joining the family, shall we?”</p><p>Remus smiled. “Yes, let’s. Thank you for your wise words, Draco. I truly believe you are wise beyond your years.”</p><p>Draco flushed as they entered the dining room, but he refused to tell his friends or their parents why; Remus thankfully followed Draco’s lead. “Some secrets aren’t mine to share,” he told Harry, and his friends’ parents had scolded Harry for badgering him for answers.</p><p>After everyone finished eating, three excited children jumped up to clear the table. Draco watched the three adults move to the couches with some trepidation. His mother had helped him select gifts for each Granger, and Emily had helped with Remus’s present, but it was his first time offering any of them a gift, and he was concerned.</p><p>“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed as he unwrapped a set of books from his parents. “Um, Mum … why are there only half of the books in the set here?”</p><p>“This feels like books,” Hermione said thoughtfully, hefting one of her own packages. “Do we have joint ownership?”</p><p>Emily nodded and smiled. “You’ll both be wanting them, I’m sure, and there’s no sense in us buying two sets. Just be sure to share well.”</p><p>“What are they?” Draco asked, leaning over his still-wrapped present from the Granger parents to peer at the books. “No way! <i>Jacobson’s Thorough Guide to Magical Theory</i>? Do you think I could look at those sometime?”</p><p>“Of course!” Harry and Hermione said at the same time without looking at each other. Draco laughed even as he grinned at them.</p><p>“Thanks!” He finally turned to his own present and carefully unstuck the corners of the wrapping paper.</p><p>Harry groaned. “Just rip it!”</p><p>“Hush.” Making eye contact with Harry, Draco began to slow his unwrapping until he was barely moving, to Remus’s apparent amusement. Then, suddenly, he grabbed  one end and yanked it quickly, roughly, grinning as the wrapping gave way. “<i>Jacobson’s Guide to the Guide</i>?”</p><p>Sam nodded. “We thought it might be useful for you to know which volume you need when you borrow from Harry and Hermione.”</p><p>Draco swallowed hard. “That’s … very … I mean … Thank you. Very much.”</p><p>“Mine are less meaningful,” Remus admitted, handing out matching envelopes to each of the others, adults included. </p><p>“Yours are delicious,” Draco announced as he opened the envelope and spied the Honeydukes logo. He pulled the inner sheet out and grinned. Ten galleons on a gift certificate! A part of him wondered how much each Granger had gotten, but he wasn’t going to ask or complain if he found out they got more. Remus knew them all better, and the most Draco had ever gotten from his parents for sweets was seven galleons. “Thank you, Remus.”</p><p>“You’re welcome. Shall we open the gifts from you?”</p><p>Nervously, Draco agreed, and Harry helped him pass out the gifts. After a moment, various exclamations of pleasure reached his ears.</p><p>“This is exactly the kind of book I was hoping to find,” Emily told him, eyes glued to the cover of <i>So You Want To Know the Dagda</i>.</p><p>“It’s aimed towards muggle born magic users,” Draco warned her. “Mum and I looked for one that didn’t include spells, but this was the best one we could find.”</p><p>Emily beamed. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Draco.”</p><p>“Yes, thank you, Draco,” Sam said, holding up his book to show everyone. “<i>Magical Sports for Dummies</i> looks like a great starting point for me!”</p><p>“And my book is perfect for me, too!” Hermione cried, showing off <i>Runes for the First and Second Year Student</i>.</p><p>Remus laughed as he finally looked at his own book. “<i>A History of Chocolate</i>,” he read aloud, showing off the cover. “I assume this is a muggle book?” When Draco nodded and gestured with his head toward Emily, Remus grinned at the both of them. “Thank you, Draco. I’ve been curious about how muggles make chocolate for a while now."</p><p>Harry finally looked up and met Draco’s eyes. “I don’t get it,” he said slowly, turning his book around his hands.</p><p>“Turn to page 378,” Draco instructed softly.</p><p>Harry’s eyes grew wide as he opened <i>Chasers We’d Love To Chase</i> to the indicated page. “James Potter,” he read aloud. “Potter played the number 6 position for Gryffindor House for five years and number 7, Seeker, for one surprisingly successful year. After school, he devoted himself to the war effort against You-Know-Who, becoming an Auror and saving countless innocent lives. We can only hope that the afterlife has a Quidditch pitch for this talented fanatic.” He met Draco’s eyes again, this time with tears swimming in his. “Dad Potter played Quidditch.”</p><p>“Your Dad Potter could have gone professional,” Draco replied softly. He really thought Remus would have mentioned the Quidditch by now. “His career was yet another tragedy of war.”</p><p>“He used to say that there would be time for it after the war,” Remus added.</p><p>“Hermione’s gifts,” Harry said suddenly and loudly. “We should.”</p><p>Draco nodded and passed her present to Remus silently, cursing himself inwardly for striking out with his gift to Harry in such a spectacular way. Remus leaned down and set a hand on Draco’s shoulder, placing his mouth right next to Draco’s ear.</p><p>“That was a very thoughtful gift,” the man barely breathed into Draco’s ear, lower than a whisper. Draco strained to hear him. “He does appreciate it. It’s just … a lot, right now. Give him some time.”</p><p>Draco nodded, but the cloud over his head persisted throughout the rest of the gift opening. He put all his enthusiasm into the opening and thanking of his own gifts, but he had nothing to spare for others’ gifts like he had before.</p><p>“Alright, Remus, they should be here in about ten minutes.”</p><p>The tutor nodded and spelled all his gifts into a large bag. “That’s my cue,” he replied, shrinking the bag and tucking it into his pants pocket as he stood. “Draco, it was wonderful to get to speak with you. Remember what I said. Grangers, I’ll see you on Sunday.”</p><p>“Why do you have to leave now?”  Harry almost whined.</p><p>Remus looked uncomfortable.</p><p>“Because he chooses to, Harry. Remus can make his own decisions, can’t he?”</p><p>Harry glared at Remus. “See you Sunday, I guess, if you decide to come.”</p><p>“Harry James Granger!”</p><p>A tear rolled down Harry’s cheek before he turned and ran upstairs.</p><p>Draco tugged on Remus’s sleeve. “Look, I know you don’t want to see my father,” he said in a rush as soon as the man gave him his attention. “But Harry needs you right now. Go tell him Quidditch stories. I’ll make sure Father doesn’t go upstairs."</p>
<hr/><p>The family sat together in the living room, all crowded onto one sofa, leaving Remus to sit alone on the other. The man took a few visibly deep breaths.</p><p>“This is not a pleasant story,” he said softly, and the Grangers leaned in closer as one. “This story includes the deaths of some very good people, and some of those people suffered along the way.”</p><p>“It’s a true story from the war,” Hermione said pragmatically.</p><p>Remus nodded. “That it is.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Well, it starts when Harry’s grandparents were at Hogwarts, though they aren’t actually a part of the story yet. It starts with a boy named Tom Riddle, though you won’t find that information anywhere in a book. No, the link between Riddle and You-Know-Who is one only known to those who were there.”</p><p>“Who’s You-Know-Who?” Emily asked, but her husband shushed her.</p><p>“Riddle gathered up a collection of followers - friends, they said,” Remus continued. “The friends called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis, and they called Riddle Lord—“ He hesitated, then closed his eyes and spat out, “Voldemort.”</p><p>“That name I know,” Emily said. “Sorry, Remus, continue.”</p><p>“The group disappeared for years, only resurfacing with a different name: Death Eaters. All of the original Knights and their children, plus a handful of new followers, were involved. At first it was nothing, just some unpopular meetings in public places. Then the attacks started. At first they claimed no knowledge of the attacks, but within a year, they were claiming responsibility for attacks the media invented.”</p><p>“What sort of attacks?” Hermione asked. “Only when I asked Daniel about it, he wouldn’t tell me.”</p><p>“With good reason. Attacks against people they felt didn’t deserve to be a part of the magical community, and let’s leave it at that.”</p><p>“But who—“</p><p>Remus shook his head as he interrupted his student. “No, Hermione. We’re leaving it at that.” He caught Emily mouthing something, paid attention as she repeated it, and shook his head. “Skin color and ethnicity were not factors. Those particular prejudices tend to be found only among muggle raised witches and wizards.</p><p>“Now. With time, they were claiming responsibility for large scale attacks, wide spread terror, and breaking the Statute of Secrecy. They were in the highest parts of the government. Aurors found their hands tied or even out of a job when they tried to investigate.</p><p>“Thankfully, a vigilante group rose up to fight the Death Eaters. It was led by Albus Dumbledore, and Harry, your Potter parents were both members of the group. So were Neville Longbottom’s parents, and Ron Weasley’s father, and Draco Malfoy’s aunt, and it occurs to me that you really should not know all these members.”</p><p>“Because you think Voldemort is coming back,” Harry said quietly. “You think he’s coming back, and you think the group will form again, and you’re worried we’ll accidentally endanger someone.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>The Grangers all looked at each other, then Hermione nodded and took her brother’s hand. “You can obliviate us,” she offered.</p><p>Remus snorted. “I can’t, actually. Not only is it illegal, but I’m terrible at the charm. We’ll find another way. But back to the story, all these people were part of the group because they all believe that everyone magical or with a magical heritage belongs in the magical world.”</p><p>“Do you think that?”</p><p>Remus could feel the pressure on his mind that was Harry attempting to gain access. "I do, yes. I think those people have the right to choose which world they want to be a part of, or both worlds, even, but I don’t think anyone should tell them they don’t belong or, Merlin forbid, attack them over it.”</p><p>Harry nodded slowly, and the pressure eased.</p><p>“You should also know that they consider me a half-breed and not worthy of being a part of the magical world, either,” Remus offered quietly.</p><p>“You were a part of the group.”</p><p>Remus smiled at Sam. “Technically, I still am. Albus has the best information, even though he doesn’t see fit to share it, so his group has the best chance for a win, just as it did back then. Your parents, Harry, and most of their friends joined this group and spent years fighting until one day….” He trailed off and looked uncomfortable. “Sam, Emily, maybe I should have run this story by you first.”</p><p>The couple exchanged a look, then nodded at Remus at the same moment. “Tell us all,” Sam said firmly.</p><p>“Okay.” Remus pulled his surprised eyebrows back down to where they belonged and cast his mind back to find the exact wording. “There was a prophecy made. True prophecies are not uncommon, but ones of this … magnitude … are practically unheard of. To top it off, it was made by someone long considered a fraud. Not many took it seriously, but we had intelligence that Voldemort was, so we did. We the group.</p><p>“<i>The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will  mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.</i>” </p><p>The room sat quietly, but tears were spilling down the cheeks of both children. Rather than seek comfort from their parents, the two turned to each other, collapsing in each other’s arms.</p><p>“So it’s my fault they died,” Harry wailed suddenly, and Remus closed his eyes even as the Granger parents descended on their children for a family hug.</p><p>“It’s not your fault,” he forced out, regretting telling the story already. That didn’t take long. “Voldemort is the only one who is to blame.” Well, as far as he was telling them today, at least. Black was a story for another time, and this time, Remus would tell the parents and let them handle their children without him. </p><p>“But the prophecy—“</p><p>Remus shook his head sharply, eyes still closed as he saw the wreckage of Godric’s Hollow again and again. “The prophecy did not apply only to you until Voldemort chose you.”</p><p>“Remus.” Sam’s voice brought Remus’s eyes open finally, and the compassion in the man’s face caused a couple tears to finally fall. Merlin, he missed his friends. “After school starts again….”</p><p>He nodded in understanding. The children may be highly intelligent, but they were still just children. This was more than enough for them to deal with now, but the adults needed to talk about the future. </p><p>“Thank you,” Emily said. “Do you exist legally in the muggle world?”</p><p>Remus grimaced. “Um. Not … exactly.” He had a driver’s license, but it was a clever forgery that crashed their computers whenever they tried to look him up. He had a normal title for his bus, but that didn’t prove identity at all.</p><p>“Then you’ll have to help us set this up in the magical world,” Sam said firmly. “The kids would like for you to be their godfather.”</p><p>“I can’t,” Remus replied without hesitation. “I mean legally, I can’t. You know I would love to, but I’m not convinced it would be a good idea, anyway.”</p><p>“We’re convinced,” Hermione told him, arms still wrapped around Harry. “We know how safe you are.”</p><p>“And if you can’t do it in the magical world, then you’ll just have to start existing in the muggle world,” Harry added through his sniffles.</p>
<hr/><p>“Hey, Mione,” Harry said quietly, two full minutes after silently slipping into his sister’s room to watch her pack.</p><p>She stilled. “Is this going to be easier if I stop packing?” she asked without turning around.</p><p>“I don’t think it makes a difference? I’ve just been thinking about the Protective Magic class.”</p><p>Hermione put down the shirt she was folding and joined her brother on her bed. “That’s right; we have to give the school an answer as soon as we return.”</p><p>“Yeah.  I’ve been thinking that we should take the class but have Remus go over everything with us too to make sure we’re not missing anything we should be learning.”</p><p>Hermione grinned. “That sounds good to me. I hadn’t thought of having Remus help out. That’s a good idea.”</p><p>“And you’re still good to keep taking the muggle courses?”</p><p>She nodded. “I’m still good.”</p><p>Harry scooted closer and rested his head on his sister’s shoulder. “Then I think we have a plan.”</p><p>“Are you thinking about that prophecy again?”</p><p>He shrugged. “They think we didn’t notice that I still have to kill Voldemort. Or be killed by him. I don’t like either option, but I know what will happen if I let him have another reign of terror.”</p><p>“So we learn from Professor Moody and Remus both, and we both get good at protective magic and fighting, and we take out Lord Slimy together.”</p>
<hr/><p>Sam dropped to one knee to hug his son, whispering something in his ear that Remus purposefully didn’t listen to. Emily stayed standing and pressed her daughter to her side, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. The parents released their children at the same moment, and the two kids swapped places to say goodbye to their other parent.</p><p>“Your turn!” Harry announced suddenly, practically flinging himself at Remus. The man caught him with the ease of practice; he was well used to Harry’s cannonball tendencies. He squeezed him and rubbed his head, laughing when his hair returned to its own messy shape rather than adopt Remus’s mess. Just like James’s hair.</p><p>“I’ll see you tomorrow, you know.”</p><p>Hermione grinned from where she was patiently waiting for her turn with Remus. “Of course, but it’s not a true goodbye if we don’t hug you like it’ll be months.”</p><p>“Well, you won’t catch me complaining about hugs,” Remus said with a grin, releasing Harry and holding his arms out for Hermione.</p><p>The girl wrapped her arms around Remus’s waist and pressed her face into his chest. “We won’t have time to miss you, but I do love you,” she muttered into him.</p><p>“I love you, too,” he replied. “Both of you. Now get on the train before you miss it.” As though to reinforce his words, the whistle on the train blew once.</p><p>“Bye!” Harry cried, giving each of his parents another hug. He then waited for Hermione to do the same before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the train. “Come on, I see Draco and Anthony. Oh, and Neville!”</p><p>“They’ll be fine,” Emily said, and Sam stood up finally.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Remus will keep us informed.”</p><p>“I know,” Sam repeated.</p><p>“He’s a nervous, clingy parent,” Emily stage-whispered to Remus. “He hates being away from the kids.”</p><p>“I would be, too,” Remus assures the other man. “Let’s get butterbeer after this. You’ll love it, and it’s just what you need.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A note on warnings: This story contains the prophecy and light discussion of its meaning and related violence/death.</p><p>And there you have it! The next major installment will address the spring at Hogwarts, so stay tuned!</p><p>I’m mostly working on a massively long story that will follow Remus throughout the children’s second year at Hogwarts. I’m simultaneously writing the rest of the first year in both Harry Granger and Remus’s Sevens, so you will get that content, I’m simply not sure of when due to working on those three projects at once.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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